Operative Word (Revised)
by Khiori
Summary: The Romulan Praetor Narviat and Saavik have a little 'discussion' about the location of his wife. (Revised!)


Narviat, noble Praetor of the Romulan Star Empire, had Saavik pinned quite thoroughly beneath him. His smile was of a particularly self-satisfied predator and not even the blood that marred his face or the harsh rasps of his breathing could lessen the gloating triumph in his eyes.

"Now, my dear, do I have your _undivided_ attention at last?"

Saavik fought every natural instinct in her and engaged Vulcan Discipline to force herself to stop resisting. Her pounding heart rate gradually eased, as did her pained breathing. Carefully, she smoothed her rapidly bruising face and arched her eyebrow calmly, as if they were actually having a civilized conversation in a sitting room, rather than finding herself trapped beneath a definitely displeased Romulan. "I do believe so."

He shifted his heavy muscled weight to keep her in control, some of the absolute crushing grip of his white knuckled hands about her wrists lessened and the lines of his face began to relax.

"Excellent. I _despise_ having to repeat myself." He blew an errant sweaty lock of hair out of his face and gave her a distinctly chiding look. "Now, child, all this _unpleasantness_ could easily have been avoided had you merely accepted my invitation. Which makes me curious. Why all the _defiance_?"

"Attempting self-preservation is not defiance." Saavik corrected firmly. Then gave him a reproving look. "And _invitations _are generally accepted as _consensual_ societal extensions."

He clicked his tongue mockingly. "Not when they come from a _Praetor_, dear."

Saavik sighed long-sufferingly. "As I noted earlier, _Praetor_, I do not recognize your authority."

Narviat's grin sharpened. "Definitely defiance. I see the Vulcans have not yet managed to erase your Romulan pride." He studied her speculatively. "I must note that it is pleasing to see _some_ of our dear Lady Evaste was entirely accurate."

Saavik closed her eyes a moment to keep her patience and his focus. "To _what _do I owe the honor of this assault?"

"At last, to business. Then let us begin. It seems, my dear, that I am looking for my wife. Would you, perchance, have happened to see her recently?"

"No." Saavik shook her head firmly. "And to shorten the duration of this interrogation, I note that I am most certainly _not _responsible for Charvanek even had I done so."

"Noted." His grin widened. "So, that would be a '_yes_'?"

"_Romulans_," She sighed. "Would it assist communication if I switch languages? '_No_' as in an abdication of-"

"_Vulcans_." He let go of one of her wrists and cuffed her none too gently. "As cooperative as you are being, perhaps at this point I should mention that my personal Honor Guard are currently taking bets on the, shall we discreetly say, _entertainment_ value this evening presents?"

Saavik turned her head slightly to eye the unpleasantly excited expressions on the Romulans narrowly. "You _are_ aware that is an oxymoron, correct?"

Narviat rolled his eyes and gave her another cuff. "And as I do seem to recall a _slight_ honor debt still outstanding, I would _prefer _they be sorely disappointed. "Wouldn't you _agree_?"

"That would be preferable. Although if you consider saving the Romulan Star Empire from war _slight_ then I am curious as to what you find-"

He lifted an eyebrow in deliberate Vulcan mimicry and raised a warning fist. "Tell me, dear, does your husband know how much you like pain?"

Saavik's chin firmed, daring him. "Tell me, Praetor, does your wife know how much _you_ like it?"

He laughed a very Romulan approval at her unyieldingness. "I see why my wife is inordinately, ah, _fond_ of you."

Saavik considered her last encounter with Charvanek and sighed. "Fond is not . . . exactly the emotion I would describe it. Now, may we proceed in this illegal interrogation? As evident this entire interaction, I have already overstayed my place in the Empire and I would prefer my presence elsewhere. I believe you were inquiring as to your wife's current location?"

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. "Your sudden cooperation is appreciated. Where is my wife now?"

"Unknown. As previously stated." Her eyebrows vaulted. "And the reason this is now _my_ concern is . . . ?"

"It should be obvious, even to a Vulcan. I recall the . . . interactions my wife has had before with _him_. And you. I find it," his tones took on a Vulcan lecture mockery, "_incalculably implausible_ that the sudden disappearance of my wife and the sudden reappearance of _you _could be _entirely_ coincidental."

"Indeed?"

"_Indeed_."

"Then may I assume reconfirming my ignorance would merely be futile at this point?"

"It would most certainly be futile."

Saavik studied him, cautiously. "And may I ask exactly how a Praetor managed to . . . _misplace_ the treasure of the Empire?"

He growled and gripped her wrists brutally hard. "_Patience_, as all the virtues, is rather in _short_ supply at the moment."

Saavik was silent a long moment and then she met his angry stare with perfect calmth. "I have no knowledge of the current whereabouts of your wife."

He leaned so close his breath heated the blood stiffened skin of her face and it took a firm grasp of Vulcan Discipline to keep her still beneath him. "I strongly _suggest _you revise that statement."

She spoke very quietly. "Sir, you are in _gross_ violation of the Federation-Romulan Treaty. And my personal space."

"In the event you somehow failed to notice, you are _quite_ at my mercy. Now, _where_ is my wife?"

Saavik took a long pain filled breath and let her eyes reflect nothing but him. "On the Eagle, my oath, I have _no knowledge_ of her current whereabouts."

The two of them locked accessing stares.

Narviat finally sighed in dismay. "_Damn_ it. I would have laid gold-" He growled, irritated deeply now, and abruptly released her and rose. Scrubbing gingerly at his face to avoid setting off his own bruises, he began to dust off his once fine uniform, scowling in disgruntlement now at the bloodstains on the expensive fabric. "Are these mine or yours?"

Saavik sat up, cautious of her own damages. "Yours." Her eyes then glinted. "Of _course_."

He froze, then laughed. "_Definitely _defiance." He shook his head with genuine growing favor at her and then deliberately offered a House ring jeweled hand.

Saavik blinked in surprise at the courtesy, considered it a moment, then actually accepted the help to her feet. Straightening, she swept her own tunic off and flicked a dryly humored look at the now grumbling Honor Guard. "You _do_ realize that you have greatly disappointed your subjects, Praetor?"

He shrugged nonchalantly and then leaned close for privacy and winked. "Not to worry, my dear, I will kill them. No loss to my reputation that way." He tilted his head and smiled a very Romulan smile as her eyes first widened then narrowed at him. Then he bowed aristocratically to her as none of their altercation had ever happened. "And as much as it is always refreshing to see old . . . ah, _allies_, I believe it is time I turned my attention elsewhere. I must locate my wife."

Saavik inclined her head wryly. "That would be wise. Though perhaps not wise. I have it on good authority that she is . . . _temperamental_ when caught."

He snorted in amusement and shook a finger at her. "Naughty, child. Your Vulcan has his hands full with you." He jerked a motion at his

Guard and turned on his heel.

Saavik kept her face was perfectly Vulcan and pulled her hidden communicator out and snapped it open. "One to transport." The hum of the beam began to fill the air and suddenly, after all the indignity, she simply could not resist. "Praetor!"

He paused and glanced impatiently back over his shoulder, scowling. "_Yes?_"

Her eyes glinted with a very Romulan light. "For future reference, you may wish to improve your interrogation techniques. The operative word is _dissembling_." And she disappeared in a shower of gold.

Narviat's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped.

Then the Praetor of the Romulan Star Empire swore and burst out laughing.


End file.
